death smell

PTSD on death smell. 

august 14, 7am, time for morning salutations to the 4 directions. i go out. there is a very bad smell. maybe it is from a farmer not so far and they are applying an animal-based fertilizer. or, maybe it is from the construction site next door. i kneel in front of drains, but there is no bad smell in there. on the contrary, there a little bit of freshness floating up from flowing bits of water. i feel panic growing. my nose is still barrier-challenged from a dry sinusitis i have gone through. i feel dizzy. i go back up. i am partly dissociated. i close my windows and eat my breakfast. i write on my computer and go out later and come back somewhat in an overheated metabolism. we are in a heat wave. i eat my lunch and i experience very strong synesthesia. i am actually eating the bad smell outside. my mouth believes the smell is in my broccoli. i panic. i stop eating. i squat, hold myself. tinnitus + nasal overstimulation. i boil camomile. it is too much. next week, construction workers start to work again and there will be a new site nearby.

august 16, 7 am ok. 9 am horrible. i locate the source area in my neighbours' land. it smells at a dead animal but i can't see any and the smell seems spread out.

i speak to one of the owners of the land, an old gardener lady who can barely ear me. we do not go very far. she says that she smells something at some point, but she is not interested in looking into the bushes with me although she would very well know how to do this given her whole life as a skilled gardener. she goes back home to eat her breakfast. 

she probably thinks that i am the problem.

my dad reports nose bleeding for the second day in a row.

i go to the drugstore to buy him some hemostatic cotton and onguent.

he says he is tired.

i undestand.

i feel unsafe.

i haven't had a safe home since march 2020.

i am terrified.

i am alone.

irony: i have been writing about death and trans politics for days in a row and now i am invaded by the smell of death.

the smell of death is not a nice smell.

when is it going to stop?

my despair makes me want to die.

but, a very skilled performance art friend of mine said one day, you can sense death behind you. but do not try to follow it. it is too dangerous.